Cake And Pastry Shop
by pluckingpearls
Summary: Ludwig treats Feliciano to an afternoon in a pastry shop. / I know this is a bit fluffy and that no one will read this but I apologize for being inactive for so long and decided to post this.


His oval face was pressed against the glass, peering into the tea and cake shop. Little cakes and tarts lined the display case, and he felt the rumbling of his stomach push him toward the open door, spilling the sweet smells of raspberry and cake and the frothy sounds of batter and icing being whipped. There was the occasional sound of a laugh and the clatter of tea cups and he could sense the smiles in the voices that spilled from the open door out onto the busy, summer, Berlin street.

"Do you want to go in?"

He whipped around to the voice of Ludwig behind him, holding his bag over his shoulder.

"I don't have any money." he answered, turning his gaze back to the window and straightening up.

"I'll treat you." Ludwig said and he smiled, feeling a slight blush come up to his cheeks.

"Really Ludwig?" he asked, still trying not to show his excitement and happiness at the prospect of Ludwig treating him to tea and cakes.

"Yes." he said as he walked in, and found a table near the corner, where the afternoon light hit it and made the mahogany table turn a warm shade of brown. He slid into one of the chairs and slid the bag underneath the table before looking up and, noticing he was still standing by the door, beckoned him over.

He tucked his short hair behind his ears and walked over quickly, smiling quietly to himself.

As he slid into the seat, a waitress appeared, sporting a friendly expression and two quaint little menus from her apron.

"Hi, I'm Emma and I'll be your waitress for today. Is there anything I can get you to start off?"

He looked from the waitress, back to Ludwig. He was long past understanding German (even if he did think that they sounded angry at most times, even if they weren't intending on it) but he was still having trouble pronouncing the angry syllables, and speaking it in general.

Ludwig looked up at him, realized his predicament in an instant and asked "Which tea?" in fluent Italian to him.

Unlike himself, Ludwig had taken the initiative and learned Italian as soon as he had become friends with his rather inept Italian friend. He had also been courteous and learned Japanese as well, even though Kiku already knew German, English, Mandarin, Russian, and a slew of other languages that were hard to pronounce.

He glanced at the long names of German teas in front of him, and screwed his mouth over to the side in speculation.

After a moment of awkward silence, Ludwig looked up to the waitress and apologized.

"I'm sorry, he sometimes has trouble making up his mind. We'll have a pot of Orange Spice."

The waitress, looking relieved that at least someone at the table knew what they was doing, jotted it down and smiled at him before hurrying off.

"Thank you Ludwig." he said, looking down, almost ashamed at his inability to order simple tea, and blushed.

"Don't worry about it." he said.

Ludwig's tone was sympathetic and so he looked up with a sideways smile.

"Do you want me to translate the cakes to you?"

His smile widened and he shook his head excitedly, and took careful note which German pastries sounded the most delicious.

"Are you full Feliciano?"

He looked up to Ludwig's face, and the dark stain of berries on his lips from the raspberry tart he had ordered.

Feliciano himself was feeling warm and content and smiled brightly up to him, wrapping one hand around the beautiful flowered ceramic that the waitress had poured their tea into. Though it hadn't been much of a surprise to Feliciano himself, he quite liked the Orange Spice tea, and Ludwig had even paid for a tin of it so that Feliciano could go home and brew his own.

(He was already skilled in the talent of boiling water, all he had to do was pour it into a cup with tea leaves.)

"It was delicious Ludwig, molto grazie!" Feliciano said, putting the tea cup down and standing up with Ludwig, who picked up their almost forgotten bags under the table.

As they stepped out, the sun hit Feliciano's face with a smile, and he spun in the middle of the street, so happy and full and content that he thought even pasta couldn't make everything feel this wonderful.

"Feliciano?"

He looked up to Ludwig, who was pulling him back from the line of cars with a gentle hand, and without thinking much (as Italian's were prone to doing) he stood on his tippy-tippy toes and kissed Ludwig on his raspberry stained lips.

"Molto grazie Ludwig. Molto grazie."

Surprised pulled at Ludwig's features as the Italian descended and turned to skip off, not realizing the blush staining his friend's features so bright, he could have been slapped.

"Feliciano!" Ludwig called and his small friend turned, his smile contagious.

"Are you coming Ludwig?" he called as his smile skipped from his face to his friend's.

"I'm coming Feliciano. I'm coming."


End file.
